


to me, you are a little bit more than just fate

by dazzlingsunshine



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Confessions, Falling In Love, Family Issues, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Meet-Cute, Minor Lee Felix/Seo Changbin, Strangers to Lovers, it's all just one very big cheesy mess, they kind of meet on a bus but not exactly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:34:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23660167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dazzlingsunshine/pseuds/dazzlingsunshine
Summary: “Is it one of those shows? With the hidden camera thing?” Jisung gasped, already looking around and trying to make out the contour of another person filming him from behind any of the buildings surrounding them.“Is a stranger’s kindness such a hard thing to believe in?” the other proclaimed, a muffled chuckle earned from him as he watched Jisung with curious eyes. Feeling his gaze upon him, he was quick to turn back around, trying to fight against the faint blush now coating the apples of his cheeks.“No? I mean, kind of—” Jisung explained, scrunching up his nose at his own blabbering.“We can fix that, then.” with no further warning, the boy removed his jacket’s hood from his head, running a hand through his messy dark locks, “I’m Minho.”—alternatively, Jisung somehow meets Minho at the right place and at the right time; it all starts with a rusty old bus that could break down at any given moment.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 16
Kudos: 231





	to me, you are a little bit more than just fate

**Author's Note:**

> originally, this fic was supposed to be something completely else, mainly just a road trip kind of au. but then i got this other idea, and decided to develop it into this monster instead!! it's honestly just a big rushed mess of some of my favourite tropes blended in together & it's more like a collection of one-shots belonging to the same story?? i don't really know how to explain it, but either way, i hope that you will enjoy reading it!!  
>   
> i would also like to apologize in advance for any mistakes or typos. i edited this at 4-5 in the morning, so...yeah, there are plenty of them.  
>   
> cw // i think i've already mentioned these in the tags, but just to make sure!! family issues and the problems coming from trying to reach parental expectations are heavily discussed throughout the entire story. there is also some cursing here and there.

Whenever anyone was to ask what he wished to do in the future, Jisung had that same generic answer prepared — join university, earn his degree in Film and Media Studies, move somewhere far away, and focus solely on advancing his career further and further. To him, it sounded like a simple plan — all he needed was some ambition and dedication, because in rest, nothing else was of much importance. The fact that his parents had always critiqued his choice of following a path which stood against their plethora of moral beliefs about what it meant to build a promising and fulfilling life did not matter. Neither did his lack of proper filming equipment, consequence of his family’s unsupportive behavior, as he instead opted for using an old video camera. He had bought it when he was still a middle grade student, the little money he managed to raise in the span of a couple years fortunately being enough for him in order to purchase a second-hand camera, with a slightly cracked screen right in the corner and a concerning battery lifetime; to him, such details were just some obstacles he could easily ignore, as he reasoned with himself that he was ought to drop it to the ground numerous times throughout his time taking use of it, and that he owned enough portable chargers to have the luxury of carrying the camera around wherever and whenever he wished to.

To him, a couple difficulties like those meant nothing; he swore to himself one night, while laying awake and counting the irritating ticks of his electric watch, that in spite of anything, he was not going to abandon all that he had worked so hard to achieve. Sneaking into photography classes after school without anybody’s knowledge, only because it was the only way he could learn more about how that sort of equipment worked, continuously watching the same movies from his favourite directors and noting down all the details which caught his attention and which he deemed as useful; the list was long, and even he couldn’t remember all the little steps he had to follow in order to be accepted by his dream university without asking his parents for financial help.

Jisung was confident that he was prepared for anything life was to throw at him.

And yet, he would have still never expected to find himself sitting on a cold bench, when it was long past midnight, a crumpled bus ticket in one hand, a heavy backpack in the other, and an almost shattered camera hanging from his neck.

  


—

  


“Alright, everybody, this is our first break. We’ll stay here for only one hour, so get over with what you need to take care of quickly and make sure to return to the car on time!” the loud voice of the driver echoed throughout the entire bus, waking up a couple people who fell into a deep slumber some time along the ride.

Jisung removed one of his earbuds, moving away the blue curtain on his right, only to notice how it was still dark outside, the sun not having yet risen. The people around him all slowly stood up from their seats, the sound of their feet dragging across the floor and of whispered conversations resonating throughout the confined space. The majority of them were elders, most likely leaving their hometowns in order to visit their children who lived in some of the bigger cities of the country.

Jisung shrugged on his two-sizes too large sweater, basking in its warmth and rummaging through his backpack in search for that one small envelope in which he kept all his money. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to help him manage, until at least he received a more stable job and found an apartment to live in. He had chosen to book a hotel room for the time being, and after endless searching and multiple phone calls, he somehow landed a job at a small flower shop one of his childhood friends, whom he still kept in contact with, also worked at.

He didn’t recognize the area they were in, presuming they must have stopped in one of the more remote villages. The bus was parked in front of a local convenience store, dimly illuminated by orange artificial lightning. Jisung was quick to make his way inside, bowing his head respectfully at the woman standing behind the counter, who in response only offered him a reluctant smile.

He approached the isles at the back, grabbing a couple bags of flavored chips and some other sweets, before he moved towards the little refrigerators in search for a bottle of chocolate milk. Upon finding everything he needed, he clumsily held them in his arms, while he tried to take his money out of the envelope. He counted them with idle fingers, making a few calculations in his head — in that moment, a wave of worry shadowed his expression, a small crease forming between his eyebrows.

One thing which he didn’t think through was how much money he was supposed to save for his meals before he received his first payment. He was not entirely sure what amount he could actually spend each day on food, but it was obvious to him that he did not have enough for any kind of luxury. He chewed on his nimble bottom lip, staring from the wrinkled bills of money to the snacks he held in his other hand — he had to start taking better care of his spendings.

Jisung, though hesitant, put everything right back on the shelves. He tried to ignore the stares he got from the seller, who seemed to have been watching him ever since he first walked inside the store. He settled on a single samgak kimbap packet, giving an apologetic smile to the woman as he handed her his money.

With a breathy sigh, he sat down onto one of the chairs outside, plugging his second earbud back in and unwrapping his food as carefully as possible. His hands were slightly trembling from the crisp breeze of the night, and he was sure that his hair must have been swept by the wind in all possible places, sticking out in comical positions.

He had long gotten used to eating at unconventional hours of the night, considering how busy he used to be, with all his studies and whatnot. He never understood how other students could complete all their work with so much ease, still finding the time in their schedule to spend it however their hearts desired. All while Jisung was hunched over countless of books in the university’s library, frantically taking as many notes as he could, because he had long exceeded the number of books he could borrow and also take home simultaneously.

He simply continued to eat in silence, before the corner of his eyes made out subtle movement across from him. Jisung’s body jumped in surprise, as he looked up at the stranger who suddenly occupied the empty spot right in front of him. His eyes squinted, in an attempt to figure out who it could have been, though it was rather difficult considering that his glasses were left abandoned at the bottom of his backpack and the person in question had the hood of their jacket pulled over their head

Jisung took out his earphones, balling them into his fist. His lips parted, prepared to ask if he could be of any kind of help; he was interrupted by the stranger, who was now placing various bottles and packages onto the wooden table.

He frowned softly, moving his gaze down, only to recognize the bottle of chocolate milk he intended on buying only minutes before.

“I don’t think that samgak kimbap is filling enough.” it was a boy who spoke, or so Jisung assumed, with a faintly hoarse voice, though soothing nonetheless.

Jisung blinked a couple times, at a loss of words. The stranger, in comparison, did not flinch even one bit, his tone serious and blunt, patiently waiting for any kind of reaction.

“These...these are for me?” he asked in bewilderment, gesticulating vaguely towards the numerous bags of food placed atop of the table.

“Ah, don’t flatter yourself.” the hint of a smile could be made out from the boy’s tone alone, as he rummaged through one of the plastic bags and took out a second bottle of chocolate milk, now holding one in each hand, “There’s plenty for the both of us.”

Jisung nodded his head, confusion clouding his judgement. He awkwardly cleared his throat, because it wasn’t every day that he finds himself in front of a convenience store with a complete stranger who suddenly comes up to him and offers him delicious goods to keep away his hunger.

“Is it one of those shows? With the hidden camera thing?” He gasped, already looking around and trying to make out the contour of another person filming him from behind any of the buildings surrounding them.

“Is a stranger’s kindness such a hard thing to believe in?” the other proclaimed, a muffled chuckle earned from him as he watched Jisung with curious eyes. Feeling his gaze upon him, he was quick to turn back around, trying to fight against the faint blush now coating the apples of his cheeks.

“No? I mean, kind of—” Jisung explained, scrunching up his nose at his own blabbering.

“We can fix that, then.” with no further warning, the boy removed his jacket’s hood from his head, running a hand through his messy dark locks, “I’m Minho.” his voice sounded a lot softer, more warm and somehow welcoming.

“Jisung. I’m Jisung. Han Jisung.” he offered, straightening his position and mentally scolding himself for giving into complete rambling. The sound of soft, barely suppressed laughter — _Minho’s own_ — made a tentative smile appear at the corners of his lips.

“Well, now we aren’t strangers anymore.” Minho declared, nodding his head to further accentuate his point, “So you should better eat up, because we only have around 47 minutes left before the driver gets mad at us for being late and just leaves us rotting here.”

“You’re travelling on the same bus as me?” His eyes only widened, since he hadn’t seen Minho anywhere before. The first three hours on the bus were spent stealing glances at all the other travelers, his mind wandering to all sorts of different places as he imagined what their lives were like — ever since he was a child, he had always done that; observing others in utmost silence, building multiple scenarios in his head of where all those around him could possibly be going, what secrets they had to hide from the rest of the world, or sometimes even unusual details about them, such as what their favourite animal could be or in which way they preferred to eat their cream-filled biscuits.

Minho hummed in response, already opening one of the packages and pushing it swiftly towards Jisung, inviting him to serve himself, “Where are you headed to?”

“Seoul— are you sure that this is okay with you, Minho-ssi? Sharing your food with me?” Jisung mumbled nervously, carefully stuffing his earphones back in the pocket of his trousers.

“I wouldn’t have approached you if I weren’t okay with it, right? I don’t really like eating all by myself anyway.” He said, ripping apart a bag of salty chips, slightly inclining it towards Jisung. He timidly leaned forward, gazing back up at him, silently asking for permission. His stoic expression was enough to let him know that he had full approval, and so he sneaked his hand inside the bag, grabbing one single chip and popping it in his mouth with almost amusing speed.

“I’m also going there.” Minho revealed, neither of them saying anything afterwards.

They continued to eat quietly, exchanging accidental glances every once in a while. They relished in the company of each other, Jisung watching a few cars drive by, the lack of sound coming from their engines only amplifying the peaceful atmosphere.

“What brings you to Seoul?” Jisung was the first to break the silence, mumbling through a mouthful of rice balls.

“A rusty old bus that I’m surprised hasn’t broken down yet.” Minho answered with a shrug, getting a small grin in return, “What about you?”

“My unhealthy need for proving people wrong.” Jisung answered, swallowing his food. He aimed his chopsticks in Minho’s direction, “along with a rusty old bus, that could break down at any second, especially when we least expect it.”

Minho couldn’t help but laugh, and Jisung noticed the way his lips ceremoniously curled up from one ear to another, “Good to know that we both agree on that.” He was unable to cease his chuckles, yet he still continued with a breathy voice, “You piqued my interest, though, I can’t deny that. To whom and what are you trying to prove wrong?”

“My parents, mainly.” Jisung sighed, beginning to explain, “We weren’t exactly on the same page with what I should do in my life and—” he hesitated for a moment, averting his gaze away from Minho’s patient stare, “well, now I’m here.”

“Ah, so—” Minho lifted his hand, prompting Jisung to stop, “let me guess. Going to Seoul to chase your dreams and prove that they aren’t a lost cause as your parents probably claim?”

Jisung shakily breathed out, more so in surprise that Minho seemed to have figured most of it all out. He shifted in his seat, fumbling with his chopsticks, “That’s pretty much it.” he admitted, “You look like you also have some knowledge on that matter.”

Minho pointed towards himself, bringing a smile on Jisung’s own lips as he raised both of his eyebrows, “It’s called observance and intuition.”

He only snorted in response, not knowing what else to say. Jisung had always prided himself with the way he could notice even the smallest of details, when everybody else failed to. It was the reason why in his childhood his classmates often invited him to attend various escape rooms together; even though he was fully aware of how they only took advantage of him in order to be the winning team of the game, it still brought him an incredible amount of confidence. At the same time, it was usual for him to be told by the people in his life how he was rather incapable of paying attention to the most obvious of things, such as how it took him the entirety of middle school to realize that he was favorited by his English teacher, or that his family’s continuous words of eternal support in whatever he chose to do with his future were nothing more than lies, meant to subconsciously convince him to accept his father’s offer of continuing his legacy and to take over his company when the times called for it.

Jisung’s thoughts were soon punctuated by Minho snapping his fingers, the boy slightly bending over the table.

“Sorry, did you say something?” Jisung shook his head, his tone sheepish.

“Do you do that a lot?” Minho questioned, and Jisung tilted his head to the side, not fully understanding what he was specifically referring to.

“Hm?”

“Getting lost in your own mind, I mean.” Minho clarified, carefully sealing back the package of biscuits he was just munching on, throwing it into the bag along with the rest of their unfinished food.

“Oh!” he exclaimed, fighting back the faint blush spreading across his entire face. His professors used to complain to his parents at all their meetings about his habit of only ending up staring outside of the window, instead of being attentive to his lessons. He never quite considered it a problem, defending himself by saying that it was simply how his imagination worked, how it was out of his control and how he couldn’t do anything to remove all the distractions around him; or so it was until other people began to also point it out. “It’s, um—”

“I didn’t say it to make fun of you, or to judge you. It was just a curiosity.” Minho assured him with a gentle, affectionate even, type of smile, “How about we clean up here and head back to the bus? We can talk about it another time.”

“We can be seatmates if you want to? And then we can…you know, talk more.” Jisung suddenly blurted out, the exact moment his eyes met Minho’s.

The soft grin settled on his face brought Jisung some sort of comfort, no more words needed as they both already knew what the answer was.

  


—

  


“Are you sure you don’t need any help with that?” Minho laughed, gesturing towards the tangled wires of Jisung’s earphones. The latter had been struggling with them for the past half an hour, or so he estimated.

It had been nearly three hours since the break was finally over and they had to return to the bus headed to their final destination. As promised, Minho claimed the seat next to Jisung, nagging him the second he saw his backpack thrown carelessly at his feet. He immediately grabbed it for him, putting it alongside his own into the compartment above their heads, holding an entire lecture about why it was important for his safety to place any kind of luggage in its designated place.

After that, the conversation blossomed with ease. The two discussed all possible topics about their own personal lives — Minho learned that Jisung had majored in Film and Media Studies, being only two years younger than him, with an avid passion for old movies and an unhealthy obsession for drinking coffee at particularly ungodly hours of the night.

( _“I’m actually working on a personal project right now.” Jisung declared, nibbling softly on his bottom lip._

_“What’s it about?” Minho asked curiously, genuinely interested as the younger went on to talk about the premise of his short movie._

_“It’s a one-man kind of film, mostly philosophical. I still haven’t found a title for it, but it will center around that feeling of trying to find yourself in a world full of people who are trying to force you to be someone who you’re actually not.” Jisung explained, “It’s a bit cliché, I agree, but I want to add some sort of twist right at the end. Not telling you what it is though.”_

_“You truly are a person full of mysteries.” Minho suppressed a giggle as he spoke, “But it’s interesting. The whole one-man kind of thing is what makes the difference, especially when it comes to a plot which mainly involves the external world.”_

_“That’s exactly what I was thinking!” Jisung admitted enthusiastically, as he seemed quite happy with Minho’s response, “Your turn now.”_

_“What?”_

_“I practically told you 80% of my entire life story, including a top-secret project which I have never about with anyone before. How come the only things I know about you are still just your name and the fact that you put too much blind trust in strangers?”_

_“You are not to talk,” Minho pointed his index finger at Jisung, “you were the one who accepted to eat with me in the first place, and even invited me to seat next to you on an hours long ride.”_

_Jisung pouted, sighing dramatically, “What happened to the whole kindness of strangers thing?”_

_Minho huffed out, “Plus, my life is nowhere near as interesting as yours.” he proclaimed, continuing his initial words and choosing to ignore Jisung’s comment._

_“Allow me to be the judge of that.” Jisung had a determined look on his face, “But if you don’t want to get too personal or anything I respect that— I was just—” he quickly added, waving both his hands rapidly._

_“I graduated from med school and now I work as a nurse at a small clinic near the center of Seoul.”_

_Minho easily provided Jisung the answers to all his questions, even mentioning his three cats who currently were under the care of his parents and the fact that he secretly knew how to bake various types of dishes, pastries included, when he was asked about what his hidden talent was._

_Jisung, soon realized, that talking with Minho was comfortable, not knowing how else to describe the warm feeling which made his heart skip just a couple beats every few minutes. He kept reminding himself how they have barely known each other for a little over an hour, but he couldn’t deny how safe he felt._ )

“They’re just some wires, I can manage.” Jisung puffed his cheeks out, silently cursing in his mind the multiple knots he had no idea how to untangle. The tips of his fingers were red, and the fragility of his nails didn’t exactly make it any easier for him.

“Do you want me to lend you my own earbuds?” Minho leaned his head against the headrest, looking at Jisung from the corner of his eyes and barely hiding the smirk forming on his lips.

“I’ll be done in a few minutes.” he stubbornly argued, the crease forming between his eyebrows not going unnoticed by Minho. The older slowly leaned in, placing one of his hands over Jisung’s own.

“My nails are longer than yours.” Minho argued back, and Jisung simply scoffed indignantly. Despite his jutted out bottom lip, he still gave Minho his earphones, moving away his gaze towards the window.

“You should have just let me try a little more.” he whined, crossing both of his arms over his chest. He found it rather endearing, how Minho didn’t hesitate to lend his help, though he decided against voicing that thought out loud.

Minho only chuckled, pinching Jisung’s cheek playfully, “Come on, don’t be all sulky now.” he muttered, before returning to expertly untying the wires, handling each knot with precise carefulness.

“I’m not.” Jisung retorted, but he couldn’t keep up his act any longer, ultimately turning around to watch Minho intensely, “You weren’t joking when you said that you were actually good at this.” he gaped at the older boy, not bothering to hide his surprise.

“Add it to my list of multiple talents.” he asserted jokingly. “There you go.” he smugly smiled at Jisung, dangling the now disentangled earphones in front of him.

“Thanks.” Jisung mumbled, though he still ended up giving Minho a beaming, appreciative smile, “Do you want to listen to some of my friend’s music?” Jisung piped up.

That certainly caught Minho’s attention, “You have a musician friend?”

“Yeah, well, a musician in making,” Jisung admitted, “He’s got around 56 listeners on Soundcloud — five of which are just me using different accounts, but that’s not really the point.” he noted.

“Your secret’s safe with me.” Minho barely held in a chuckle, though Jisung still made out a certain glimmer in his eyes which he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

“He’s really great though.” Jisung countered, taking out his phone from the pocket of his hoodie, typing in his password rapidly and immediately opening the Soundcloud app. He plugged in his earphones, and then quickly wrote _CB97_ into the search bar, “I’m his personal assistant and also in charge of promotions, so please make sure to let everybody know about him if you ever get the chance to.” his laughter met Minho’s own, as the older gratefully accepted Jisung’s phone.

“Don’t you want to listen with me?” he carefully asked, holding the right earbud between his fingers and handing it to Jisung. His voice was cautious, breathing slowly and not once looking at anything nor anyone other than Jisung. The question was innocent, Minho’s tone sincere and sweet, which only caused Jisung’s cheeks to once again flush faintly, the rose coloured blush now slowly covering the sides of his face.

“Oh— sure.” Jisung ducked his head away as he spoke, plugging the earbud in and shrinking down into his seat. He instinctively put his hands onto the video camera which still hung loosely from his neck, not once having taken it off — Minho said nothing of it, instead pressing _play_ onto the first song which popped up from Jisung’s friend’s profile.

Outside, faded rays of the sun could be distinguished through the dark clouds covering the entire sky. Jisung weakly opened the curtains, and he could vaguely see Minho studying each of his movements quietly, barely making his presence felt if it weren’t for the way his knee pressed against his own. He felt an electric tingle, going all the way up his leg, and he tried to ignore the warm buzzing in his chest.

  


—

  


Jisung sensed his shoulder being nudged slightly, accompanied by his name being repeatedly hushed out a couple times before he ultimately let his eyes open. They squinted disorientedly, barely adjusting to the natural light coming from outside.

“Jisung?”

He turned his body around, only to be met by Minho’s watchful gaze. His eyes shone like thousands of stars clustered together, but he dismissed the thought as quickly as it crossed his mind.

“I fell asleep, didn’t I?” he caught his bottom lip between his front teeth, taking one single glance at his phone still resting in Minho’s palm, noticing that it was well past 9 in the morning.

“Yeah.” Minho confirmed, pushing a messy strand of hair out Jisung’s forehead, “We’ve reached our station,” he began, and Jisung needed no further explanation. He looked around, only to see that the bus was nearly empty, a couple people still gathering all of their things and preparing to leave.

“Your phone.” Minho cleared his throat, gesturing with his head towards the device he carefully placed onto Jisung’s thigh, “I’ll go and get our backpacks.”

In a matter of minutes, they made their way out of the car, Minho still carrying Jisung’s bag on his unoccupied shoulder, being quick to brush away any of Jisung’s protests and instead asking him if he had other luggage in the trunk of the bus.

“Hyung, you’re being way too nice now.” Jisung desperately tried to reach for his backpack, but Minho’s reflexes made him turn around at the last moment, giving the younger a cheeky grin accompanied by a mischievous gesture of pinching his nose. Jisung scrunched it up involuntarily, making one last attempt to retrieve his belongings, “I told you, I’ll take care of it. Now where’s your car?” Minho argued, gaze flickering to Jisung.

Jisung took a step back, taking a curious look at Minho, “What do you mean?”

“Isn’t anyone here to pick you up?”

“I was thinking of just taking a taxi.” Jisung admitted, catching Minho off guard when he wasn’t paying attention and sliding his backpack’s strap down his arm. He caught it before it fell down to the ground, sticking out his tongue childishly when the older boy seemed to have finally registered the scheme he just managed to pull.

“Why don’t you let me be a gentleman for once?” Minho mumbled, but still helped Jisung place the heavy rucksack comfortably on his shoulders. It was discoloured, multiple pins decorating it, along with small doodles Minho assumed to have been the boy’s own artwork — cartoonish-like animals, a few flowers here and there, and different ambiguous patterns which completed its distinctive look. “My friend is here to give me a ride back to my apartment. We could take you to your place if you wanted?” he said.

Jisung’s entire body momentarily froze, only then realizing how he hadn’t told Minho his intention of renting a hotel room for the time being; he wasn’t ashamed of it, it was only a part of his plan to achieve the success he had always wished for, but confessing it out loud made a little void form deep down in his stomach — maybe it was his need of leaving Minho with a good impression, even if he doubted that they were to ever cross their paths again; he still couldn’t brush away the fact that it did make some sort of vulnerability grow inside of him.

“I’ll be fine, hyung, I promise. There are a lot of hotels in the area and I can easily get to the one which is closest.” his tone was strained, and he didn’t dare to take one single look up at Minho. He was afraid he would perceive it as him trying to take advantage of his kindness, so Jisung purely tried to treat it as insignificantly as possible.

Just as Minho was walking towards the parking lot next to the bus station, he suddenly halted, making Jisung bump his forehead into his back from the unexpected stop, “I thought you said you wanted to settle down in Seoul permanently?”

“Well, you see—” Jisung paused, thinking his words over and over again, ignoring the soft way his voice cracked out of nervousness, “This whole thing? Coming to Seoul? It was more of a in the moment kind of decision. I planned it all out in the span of a week at most, so I didn’t have much time to go over everything and—” he exhaled, laughing shakily, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was saying either, “I figured the most practical solution would be to stay at a hotel until I found another place to live in.”

For a while, Minho didn’t say anything, seemingly dissecting everything Jisung had just revealed to him. The younger found himself tapping his video camera repeatedly, eyes focused onto the dirty yellow of his sneakers. This time, the quietude settled between them was anything but comfortable, and he contemplated dismissing the subject entirely and saying his goodbyes from Minho. The older, however, interjected without any warning, right when Jisung was on the verge of speaking.

“You can stay over at mine if you want.”

“Wait, what—” Jisung shook his head, staring at Minho, mouth agape, trying to find any hint of a joke in his tone. Unexpectedly, he was serious, more than that even, just as he previously was when met in front of that convenience store ( to Jisung, it didn’t feel like it happened only mere hours before, because in the short time they spent in the company of each other, it somehow felt like he had known Minho for the entirety of his life. That was yet another thought he stopped himself from divulging, and he figured he had plenty of time to understand what it truly meant some other time later. )

“I don’t mind. You can stay for as long as you need to, until you find a place of your own. I’ve got a guest room nobody uses anyway.” Minho offered, with no tinge of amusement or nuisance.

“No, no, no, no! No—” Jisung waved around his hands, sounding confused at the same time, “You can’t just do that, hyung! We’ve met, what, eight hours ago?”

“Is there any reason why I shouldn’t trust you?” Minho mused, in a way which made it seem like he was now contemplating his previous suggestion of allowing Jisung to live with him.

“No?”

“Then I don’t see a problem.” Minho declared, nonchalant and assured, “I know what’s it like — to be in a whole new city, wanting to start over, but not really knowing from _where_ to _actually_ start, what you are supposed to do in such a—”

Before Minho could finish, a loud honk was heard from afar, making both boys startle in unexpected shock. “Lee Minho!” a voice roared, accompanied by some more honking; once Minho finally recognized who it must have been, back still turned towards the parking lot, he groaned audibly, like he was trying to silence the person who had unknowingly interrupted them.

“If you don’t come here right in this second I will not hesitate to—”

“I got it, just wait for a few more seconds!” Minho shouted back, grumbling something under his breath which Jisung didn’t quite manage to catch, “That’s Changbin, please excuse him. Anyway, what was I saying?”

“Something about moving to another city and starting over?” Jisung repeated, getting up on his tiptoes ever so slightly, in order to take a better look at whom Minho was referring to. He only saw a boy, presumably around their age, clad in an all-black attire, except for the fuzzy pink sweater draped over his button-down shirt.

“Well, I seriously meant it. You are welcome to stay with me for a while, before you find a better place.” Minho said with a smile.

“I don’t want it to seem like I am profiting off your generosity, Minho-hyung.” Jisung trailed off.

“Nonsense.” Minho huffed out, “You can come and see the apartment for yourself, before making a choice. I have spare keys as well, so you wouldn’t have to depend too much on me when you want to leave somewhere and I’m not there.” he suggested, timidly placing his hand on Jisung’s upper arm, squeezing it tenderly, “I’m not trying to pressure you or anything. I just know that living in a hotel isn’t really the cheapest thing in the world and—”

“ _Lee. Fucking. Minho!_ ” the same booming voice once again barked impatiently, causing Minho to roll his eyes, though there was some sort of affection hidden behind his gesture.

“That’s our cue to leave.” Minho chuckled embarrassedly, extending his hand, “The offer still stands.”

Jisung was aware of how irresponsible it was of him. How it wasn’t part of his original plan, how it was bound to be accompanied by uncertainty if he was to accept his offer. But for the first time in his life, that day, Jisung acted without too much thought, all too eagerly grabbing hold of Minho’s hand, baring a goofy, yet trusting nonetheless, expression.

Perhaps it was because the older was right — hotels were expensive, and he had no way of knowing how long it would take him to find an accommodation of his own, or how much it would cost him. Or perhaps it was because he felt too bad to refuse him, after all he had done for him; not to mention the endless honking of that Changbin-person’s car, which turned numerous heads and which persuaded him to make up his mind faster.

They both rushed towards the car, the frown settled on Changbin’s face now much more visible up close. He studied Jisung intensely, glancing from him to Minho, repeating the process a couple times before he blinked in disbelief, “You were gone for what— a week?”

“Six days, to be more precise.” Minho noted, grinning — no, _beaming_ — at Changbin’s incredulous expression, “What’s with the fuzzy creature, hm?” his tone was teasing, and Jisung soon recognized it as an attempt to push the boy’s buttons beyond limit, or so he interpreted Minho’s challenging smile and the devious sparkle in his eyes.

“ _Yah_ , it’s not a creature, it’s cute!” Changbin argued, protectively wrapping his arms around himself and running his fingers above the fluffy texture of his sweater, “Lixie got it for me and it’s the most adorable thing in the world.” he mumbled, and the way Minho’s whole entire facial expression softened didn’t go unnoticed.

“You have all my apologies.” he brought a hand to his chest as he spoke, “Oh! This is Jisung, by the way. Jisung, this is Changbin.”

“Hi.” Jisung bowed his head respectfully, timidly even.

Changbin only waved his hand in dismissal, “Don’t worry about all those formalities. Now come on, we’ve got to get going before I receive another parking ticket— and if I do, you’re paying for it, hyung!” he accused Minho, poking his chest to further make himself understood.

Changbin started to make his way towards the other side of the car, and once he jumped inside the driver’s seat, Minho leaned in close to Jisung’s ear. His warm breath tickled his skin, and he could already feel the smirk forming on his lips, “Don’t mind him, mornings just really transform him into this grumpy gremlin of sorts.”

His remark earned a muffled snort from Jisung, who only followed him into the back of the car, not once letting go of his hand.

Once Changbin drove away from the bus station, Jisung leaned his head against the window, the cold surface sending shivers down his body. And so, in that moment, listening to Minho’s calm humming along to whatever song was playing on the radio and watching the little figurine dangling from the rearview mirror from one side to another, Jisung realized that maybe, just maybe, the real reason why he went along with Minho’s proposal was because he simply _wanted to_.

  


—

  


“Jisung, if you don’t hurry up now the food will get cold!” he heard Minho wailing from the other side of the door, not once ceasing his continuous knocking which had been going on for the past minute.

“I’m just trying to pack all my things back up so I don’t transform your bedroom into a mess. It’s for your own good!” Jisung declared, stuffing into his bag the dirty sweater he wore that day along with the rest of his clothing, figuring he could still use it for a few more days.

Minho had been kind and allowed him to take a shower, after giving him a thorough tour of his apartment — the place itself was small, with two bedrooms and a couple too many potted plants wherever Jisung looked. But if anything, it was _welcoming_ ; it was welcoming and it made him feel at ease, with how clean and organized everything was, with the faded yet warm colours Minho had chosen to decorate his home with.

One more time, Jisung dried his hair with the towel he brought along with him, in one agile movement. He glanced at himself from the corner of his eye in Minho’s large mirror, placed right next to one of his two nightstands — he noted how his blond locks had gotten a lot longer than he had intended for them to in the past months, since he had been too busy with other things, forgetting to pay much attention to their state.

He folded the towel carefully, from one edge to the other, before shoving it next to the rest of his possessions, zipping up his backpack and preparing himself to finally leave Minho’s room alone and show up for dinner.

Just as he was about to put on his slippers and not make himself waited much longer, something caught his attention — it was a carton box, hidden behind the wooden wardrobe to his right. If he looked from afar, he could see what resembled a trophy peeking out.

In his childhood, he used to often be nagged by his grandmother for embarking himself on his so called adventures, where he spent the entirety of his time outside, playing _Explorers_ and bringing different kinds of objects he found to her, such as rocks which had asymmetrical shapes or other times even minuscule creatures such as ladybugs or caterpillars. Even if he ended up being locked up in her house, forced to stay in front of a TV to keep his attention occupied, he could still make out her loud complaining — most likely to either one of his parents — about how such curiosity like the one he possessed was ought to bring grave consequences, especially if he were to grow up with the same interest of deciphering even the most bizarre of things which nobody in his life ever had the forbearance to explain. He never protested though, because, as he had always told himself, if it weren’t for his grandmother’s collection of vintage movies he was forced to watch whenever he went to visit her, he would have never discovered his passion for them, how much they truly interested him and how captivating they turned out to be, even to 5 years old him.

Jisung quietly approached the box, with one finger opening it with wariness. He crouched down closer to it, not even becoming aware of how he was holding his breath when he finally registered what it actually contained; there were several diplomas and medals, along with the shiny trophy he had taken notice of earlier.

“You like all my fancy prizes?”

Jisung toppled over, falling right on his back as he barely had the time to control his balance. He looked up at the person standing behind of him, his head now at their feet, even though he was highly conscious of the fact that it couldn’t be anyone other than Minho. He felt a blush climbing up his neck, his eyes sparkling with guilt as he couldn’t even find the words to explain himself — Minho had only been sweet and polite to Jisung, only to now find him scooping through all his personal belongings.

“They’re from dancing competitions.” Minho began, bending down and looping both of his arms around Jisung, helping him stand up from the floor. Jisung stumbled over his feet helplessly, nearly falling down yet again, but this time he knew he would have landed right on top of Minho; thankfully, the latter easily caught him, a smile tugging at his lips.

“I didn’t know that you are a dancer.” Jisung breathed out, instead of delivering a proper apology.

“ _Were_. I _was_ a dancer.” Minho clarified, assisting Jisung back on his feet, taking one careful look at him, “Are you hurt anywhere? That wasn’t a really nice fall.”

Jisung felt something burst inside of him, because _why wasn’t Minho yelling at him for invading his private space like that? Why wasn’t he mad at him like anyone else would have been?_

“I’m fine, hyung. I’m sorry about—” he cringed as he spoke, “I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t be.” Minho laughed lowly — he _laughed_ —, “Now come before I give all the food to the stray cats outside.”

Jisung complied, nodding his head fast and following Minho into the kitchen. It was an open space, linked directly to the living room.

“Wait, what’s that smell?” The scent of home cooked food instantly made his nostrils flare up.

“It’s a secret recipe. You’ll see.” Minho whispered, as if nobody else was allowed to learn about this mysterious dish of his.

Jisung occupied his seat at the table, leaning his elbows against it and resting his chin on his sprawled out palms. His gaze followed Minho’s figure as he moved around in the kitchen, taking a ceramic pot out of the stove. His body blocked out Jisung’s view, thus he was not able to observe what exactly he had prepared for the two of them.

“Hyung?”

Minho hummed, a little taken aback, but still turning all his concentration on Jisung. He was equally as surprised, as the words started to drip off his lips casually, “Thank you.”

“I told you that you don’t need to thank me for anything.” Minho clicked his tongue.

“But I do! I really do. You’re letting me stay here and cooking me delicious food and being so nice to me and I just need to know how I can repay you.” Jisung muttered, his leg bouncing underneath the table.

“You’re acting as if you forced me to do all of this for you. I am doing this because I want to and because I know how shitty it is to be in a foreign city where you don’t know anyone, you have nowhere to stay, and you don’t know for how long you’ll be able to manage by yourself before—” Minho stopped himself, his voice coming out a lot snappier than intended, “I’m sorry. I’ll just...I’ll go back to— cooking and... Yeah. You seriously don’t have to repay me in any way.”

Jisung flinched slightly, not exactly expecting such an answer from him. In response, he only nodded his head, the way Minho turned around, with his back now facing him, being enough of a sign that a more sensitive subject had been touched. He decided not to push it any further, instead remaining silent.

Minho was a lot more than he appeared to be, Jisung then determined — while he seemed like the kind who took decisions on the spot and was straightforward in everything he did, he learned that there still were a few more layers he needed to break through until he discovered the reality that was Lee Minho.

  


—

  


Two weeks had passed, without Jisung even thinking about it at first; the days just continued to go one by one after the other.

“Minho-hyung?” Jisung’s voice had a sort of raspiness to it, barely above a murmur as he tightened his hold onto the blanket he had wrapped around himself.

He saw Minho sitting cross-legged on the couch, eyes glued to the TV screen in front of him — or that was how it was before he acknowledged Jisung’s presence in the room.

“Jisungie?” The nickname rolled off his lips so sweetly. Even if at first he came up with it in an attempt to poke fun at the younger in some of their usual banters, it now had a more tender ring to it. Jisung didn’t ever want to forget it.

“I...I kind of had a nightmare and I know it’s stupid but—”

Before he even had time to finish, Minho already scooted away on the sofa, to make some place for Jisung to settle into as well. He patted the seat next to him. His arm instantly embraced Jisung from the side, bringing closer to him, the moment he plopped down, “It’s not stupid.”

Subconsciously, Jisung leaned into Minho’s touch, the older boy’s hand cradling his head and inclining it towards his chest.

“What were you watching?” Jisung mumbled, cuddling into Minho’s side.

“Some documentary about the life of tropical birds. Did you know that toucans curl into little balls when they sleep?” Minho bemused, “Like you.” he chuckled softly as he felt Jisung’s fist come in contact with one of his arms, repeatedly bumping it, despite his lack of energy.

“Why are you up this early?” Jisung changed the topic of the conversation, his forehead creasing at the realization.

“I had to cover up one of my colleague’s shifts and I couldn’t really sleep when I got back.”

Jisung hummed, feeling the calming beating of Minho’s heart accelerating as he shifted further into his hold. They both stayed quiet, Jisung squinting at the screen to read the subtitles. Minho seemed to have noticed his attempts, judging by the laugh erupting from his throat, chest heaving up and down in sync with his chuckles, “Do you want me to read them for you?”

Jisung scoffed, knowing that Minho was only teasing him. He had grown accustomed to his antics in the short time they had spent together, their bickering becoming more of a daily routine than anything.

“Can I please ask you a question instead, hyung?”

“Didn’t you already do that?” Minho patted his head gently, and that let Jisung know that he had his full attention.

“Why did you stop dancing?”

Minho’s breath hitched in his throat, and Jisung felt his entire body stiffening underneath him. His drowsy mind was gradually sobering up, but it was too late for him to retreat his words, “If it’s too personal, you don’t have to tell me…I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, hyung.” he sighed, carefully sliding one of his arms around Minho’s waist, silently letting him know that he wasn’t trying to force out an answer from him.

“It’s okay, I want to talk about it. It’s just that no one’s ever asked me that before.” Minho breathed heavily, his eyes meeting Jisung’s, “When I was younger, my parents— they, um...they insisted that I took up a sport to practice in my free time, when I wasn’t busy with school. I chose dancing, and even if at first they weren’t too happy with it, once I joined more championships and— well, I don’t mean to sound arrogant, but once I also started winning most competitions that I participated in and gaining more opportunities to make myself known out there in a way, they began seeing it as a chance for our family name to gain a good reputation.” Minho paused, a bittersweet laugh leaving his lips, as if he was recounting all the times he was talking to Jisung about, “It felt like they were taking advantage of my passion, like they were using it for their personal gain. Everything was a competition for them and...and I didn’t like it. I danced because it truly made me happy, you know? But they— they started treating it as...as something I had to do, in order to assure them some sort of fulfilling future.”

“One day they...they sent me here, in Seoul, to some fancy dance academy.” Minho continued, clearing his throat, “but I was...lost. Really lost and I had no idea what to actually do, when I was all by myself. That was also when I realized that they only cared about my dancing only as long as it brought them achievement and as long as they had something to boast about to their friends, and I didn’t— I wasn’t too happy about it. So I took the first train back home and stopped dancing all together.”w

Jisung nodded his head sympathetically, showing that he was still listening. His hand slowly rubbed imaginary circles onto Minho’s hip. He wanted him to know that he was there for him — that he was no longer alone. That he had him and that he wasn’t planning on giving up on him any time soon.

“My parents were mad, obviously, and didn’t make an effort to understand where I was coming from. So I started studying in order to get accepted into med school, to at least make up for the disappointment I brought upon them. It wasn’t really a thought out decision, but....”

“It’s okay, hyung.” Jisung murmured, trying to wrap his other arm around Minho’s waist as well, despite the rather uncomfortable and awkward position, “I understand.”

“I don’t want to make it sound like a sob story or whatever,” Minho began, “because in a way I’m happy that I made this decision.”

“Is that why you told me when we first met that you understood what it was like to be in my position?” A frown formed on Jisung’s face as he turned up his head to take a better look at him.

With the tips of his fingers, Minho gently caressed the area between his eyebrows, trying to smooth out the crease between them, the action causing Jisung’s face to redden uncontrollably. Thankfully, he could blame it on the reflection coming from the TV, or on the fact that they were basically huddled together with no space left between them, the temperature in the room already warmer than Jisung would have expected it to be.

“One way or another, yeah.” Minho confirmed.

“Do you miss dancing?” Jisung asked, watching the way Minho’s face fell, before he smiled wistfully.

“From time to time.”

“You should teach me how to dance sometime, then!” Jisung beamed, Minho laughing at his sudden excitement.

“I watched you falling off your chair five times,”

“Come on, hyung!” Jisung whined, hiding away his face.

“This past week only.” Minho finished, chuckling lightly and threading his fingers through Jisung’s messy hair. Seeing his flustered expression, he sighed softly, cupping his chin and guiding his face up towards his, “We can give it a try, though. If you really want to.”

Jisung broke into a grin, nodding his head, “I can’t wait.”

“Now shush, and go to sleep. They’re talking about colibris.” Minho said, earning a huff from Jisung, who only tightened his hold around him.

Still, he obeyed, resorting to only glancing up at Minho every once in a while, in rest trying to show interest in the nature show playing and which Minho seemed to be all too enraptured by. As he observed him from such a close proximity, he could notice the faint trace of lip-gloss on his lips, which were tightly pressed together, in a comfortable, almost lazy smile. He could nearly feel his hot and ticklish breath, the remaining traces of his fragrance reminding him of something a little like an aromatic blend of orange blossom, jasmine and lemons. Jisung’s gaze rested on the gentle curve of his neck, catching sight of a droplet of sweat slowly making its way down the expanse of his skin.

Jisung shut his eyes close, fighting against the content grin threatening to appear.

  


—

  


“Good mor— what the fuck are you doing?” Minho groaned, rubbing his face with the back of his hands. His oversized t-shirt slid off his frame slightly, and he sleepily dragged his feet against the floor.

Jisung, on the other side, was fully dressed, wearing the green and light pink uniform he was required to wear at the flower shop, greeting Minho with a dazzling simper. “What was that?”

“You’re filming me, aren’t you?” Minho groused at the realization, scowling at the camera Jisung kept oriented towards him.

“Hmmm,” Jisung held himself back from giving into laughter, leaning back into the cushions sprawled out on Minho’s couch and moving around the camera to capture him fully, “maybe.”

Minho murmured something, approaching Jisung with small but certain steps. Without notice, he launched himself at the younger boy, trying to take away the camera from him or at least manage to stop the recording. Jisung shrieked, as he felt Minho’s weight falling on top of him — he was quick to extend his arms, keeping the video camera out of Minho’s reach, who in return only straddled his waist, attempting to grab a hold of it.

“You’re heavy!” Jisung squealed, wriggling his body. The movement caused Minho to lose control of his stability, barely catching himself from squeezing Jisung underneath him entirely, by securing both of his hands on the younger’s chest.

Jisung could swear that he heard the thumping of his heart echoing throughout the whole room, as they both fell silent. Neither of them said a thing, staring at each other as they both breathed unsteadily.

“I’m sorry.” Jisung’s voice was soft.

“It’s okay.” Minho answered, scrambling off him, taking a seat onto the armrest of the sofa and studying Jisung carefully, “What was the whole filming for?”

“So that when I finally become a worldwide director and somebody decides to make a biographical movie about my life they will know to also include you in it. I’m just gathering more information they can use in the future.” Jisung explained matter-of-factly.

“Well, then, please mention me in your speech when you win your first Oscar.” Minho demanded, mirroring the smile on Jisung’s face.

“I’ll make sure of it.” he assured him, “Plus, I want to remember you, hyung.”

“What?”

“I want—” Jisung repeated, “I want to remember you. You helped me a lot more than you probably think. And every single day makes me realize how grateful I am to you and...well... _for_ you. I’m grateful that I met you and that—” Jisung paused, lifting his gaze reluctantly, “That you were so thoughtful and understanding. If it weren’t for you, hyung, I’d probably be back home right now, having to listen to my parents constantly reminding me how they told me so, and how I should just given up on everything long ago.”

Minho only shrugged, the trace of a smile appearing on his lips, “You’ve made it this far because of your own self.” with that, he leaned in to tousle Jisung’s hair, to which the younger whined in dismay, “I just happened to be there at the right place and at the right time.”

“At this point I’m convinced that it wasn’t just a coincidence that we met,” Jisung went on explaining, “I mean— it isn’t every day that a cute boy shows up, buys you food, and then proceeds to offer you a place to stay. It doesn’t work like that.”

“You think I’m cute?” Minho pushed with a smirk, as if the rest of Jisung’s explanation didn’t even compare with that particular comment.

Jisung scoffed, ducking his head away, “Don’t get too cocky about it.”

“How could I ever?” Minho mused. He stood up from the couch, stretching his arms, his t-shirt riding up slightly, “Shouldn’t you be at work? I didn’t make you be late, right?” He asked.

“No, no, don’t worry. I’ve got one more hour left.” Jisung said, Minho slumping his shoulders down in relief, “I can go and prepare you a coffee if you want? You look like a zombie.”

Minho huffed out, nudging Jisung’s knee with his foot, “So much for respecting your seniors.” he tsked, briefly shaking his head in disappointment.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Jisung said, hopping off the sofa and already being on his way towards the kitchen.

He couldn’t help the way his chest tightened, or the subconscious manner he smiled to himself for no apparent reason. Deep down inside, he already knew why he started acting like that all of a sudden, whether or not he wanted to admit it — _Minho_. Minho, with his affable nature, with the way his eyes wrinkled at the corners whenever he genuinely found something funny. Minho, with his immense love for all animals and his sincere concern, his encouraging words and his teasing jokes which actually hid some kind of affection Jisung had never seen any other person in the world have.

Minho, with his silly childhood stories, with the way he sang along to all the melodies from the radio, even if he usually didn’t know the actual lyrics and only made them up as the song went on; who sometimes laughed a little too loudly at Jisung’s jokes, even when they weren’t really that funny, who always bought cat food to feed the abandoned kittens living next to the clinic he worked at, who asked Jisung about how his day had been whenever he returned from the flower shop and who showed actual interest in each conversation they had, especially when the topic was foreign to him.

Minho, who never forgot to ruffle Jisung’s hair when it was most inconvenient for him and who pinched his cheek whenever he did something the older would classify as _adorable_ ; who cuddled him close when the younger boy couldn’t sleep well, not once complaining about being woken up at unearthly hours of the night.

Minho, whom Jisung liked probably a little too much for his own good — the thought made him drop the packet of instant coffee to the ground, some of the powder spilling on the floor.

 _He liked Minho_.

  


—

  


Jisung straightened his posture, hands hidden behind his back as he carefully walked inside Minho’s bedroom, seeing the older boy slouched over his desk. His nose was buried in a book, his round glasses slipping off the bridge of his nose; he seemed to be too endorsed in whatever he was reading about to even notice him coming in.

“Hey, hyung.”

Minho turned around in his wheeled office chair, leaving the book opened and forgotten as he turned his entire attention to Jisung, “Yeah?”

He was sure Minho had already took notice of the fact that he was attempting to hide something from him, judging from the way his eyebrows softly furrowed together. “Come here.”

Surprisingly, he didn’t ask any question, instead following Jisung’s request and stopping mere centimeters away from him.

“I’ve got something for you!” Jisung said, lifting his chin proudly, even though on the inside, his heart was racing miles per minute.

“For me?”

Jisung nodded in response, revealing the item in question — it was a small bouquet of peonies and lilies, shades of white, lilac and soft pink all combined together. Jisung’s hold on their stems became stronger, as he was sure that his face had already turned a flaming shade of red ( around Minho, lately, that became a normality he wasn’t too fond of ), “I know it’s not...it’s not really much, but— I had to stay behind today to close the shop and...well, um— I made this! For you!” He sheepishly justified his gift, “Don’t worry, I made sure to pay for everything.” He laughed gingerly, pushing the flowers against Minho’s chest, “It’s been a month since we’ve first met and well...since you’ve offered to let me live here and— it’s my way of saying thank you because I really suck with words and didn’t know what else you’d like me to get you.”

Minho stared at him without uttering a word, the silence worrying Jisung beyond measure — _so it might have not been the best decision he had taken_. But, unexpectedly, the next thing Jisung knew was that he was pulled into Minho’s embrace, the latter nuzzling his nose in the crook of his neck. His breathing was sporadic, and he could feel the way his lips ghosted above his heated skin.

“Hyung, you’ll destroy the flowers.” Jisung reasoned, a nervous laugh accompanying his mumbling. He was sure that at that point Minho could make out just how fast his heart was beating, how his whole body instantly relaxed the moment he found himself in his arms.

“Thank you, Jisungie. Thank you so much.” Minho whispered, angling his head to press a chaste kiss to his cheek.

Once he pulled away, Jisung’s whole expression was flushed, with no way of hiding it, “I— my pleasure. It was my pleasure. I mean— you’re welcome. Yeah, you’re welcome. Though, it’s really nothing they’re just...they’re just some flowers.” Jisung stammered, looking down at the bouquet in question.

“Yeah, but they’re from you.” Minho countered, chuckling at Jisung’s stunned look, “I’ll go and put them in water.” He said decidedly, taking the flowers from him, fingers barely brushing against each other’s.

That night, Jisung found himself curled up underneath his blanket, with his laptop resting on his lap, desperately searching for _what it means when the guy ~~you think~~ you have a crush on kisses your cheek._

  


—

  


“It’s one step to the right, then one step forward.”

“It’s too difficult and it makes no sense.” Jisung groaned, hitting his forehead against Minho’s shoulder and not moving one single inch any longer.

“You were the one who decided that learning ballroom dancing at 3 in the morning with Epik High in the background would be a good idea.” Minho huffed out, a faint smirk pulling at the corners of his lips.

“It sounded like a good idea in my head 2 minutes ago!” Jisung moaned weakly, still leaning against Minho’s frame.

Minho had kept his promise of teaching Jisung how to dance one day — what he surely didn’t expect was for the younger to ask about it again right as he was about to return to his room to get some sleep, after one of their movie marathons ( that idea also belonged to Jisung, for them to spend their Friday nights together watching whatever movies they found on Netflix, with the younger continuously commenting each scene in detail, talking about the cinematography, about the way the shots were filmed, even pointing out some mistakes whenever he was quick enough to catch any — which, well, he always was. )

Three days had passed since the _bouquet incident_ , as Jisung liked to refer to it in his mind. And those three days felt like utmost _torture_ , for every night, before going to sleep, he kept recalling the moment he gave Minho his little impromptu gift — it was a bold idea, since he had no knowledge of what his favourite flowers were, or if he even was fond of them in the first place. He did take care of plenty of plants and treated them like his own actual children, which Jisung was quick to tease him for, but there was a difference between some potted plants and a whole bouquet which he had spent hours on preparing. He even included a cute bow and everything, thinking of the smallest details, though he was not sure if Minho had noticed or not.

Yet, his reaction and the fact that he put the flowers in a beautiful vase, right on his desk, made something warm coil inside of Jisung, who could barely contain his smile whenever he saw them displayed in plain sight, for anyone who entered his bedroom to see. It might have been something small, perhaps even insignificant, but to Jisung, it meant everything.

“How about we leave the lessons for another time, hm?” Minho suggested, twirling Jisung around gracefully, though the sudden action caused him to almost trip, his socks slipping against the wooden surface of the floor, “Careful there.” Minho commented, concern evident in his voice.

“Maybe it’s better to do it another time.” Jisung sighed with a pout.

“You’ll see that it’s a lot better if we try it during the day.” his expression softened, inevitably squishing Jisung’s cheeks playfully, “For now you should get some rest.”

“You should as well.” Jisung poked his chest, his words coming out slurred from the pressure applied by Minho’s hands on the side of his face. He hid his disappointment, because no matter how tired he was, he truly was eager to spend more of his time with Minho.

 _It was amusing_ , he thought. He felt like he was some sort of toddler who tried to find ways of constantly sticking to an older friend of theirs, admiring their each move and adoring them beyond words.

He found himself holding in a laugh — _it really wasn’t that far from the truth_.

  


—

  


“Cheonggyecheon?” Minho remarked, hopping off the bus and waiting for Jisung until he was by his side again.

“It’s a lot more beautiful at night.” he explained, walking along the sidewalk with Minho. He basked in the silence of the night, only the murmur of the water being heard, along with Minho’s soft breathing.

They slowly approached the stream, arms brushing ever so slightly as they maintained a close distance. The moonlight shone brightly, the cold breeze hitting Jisung’s exposed ankles, in return causing Minho’s hair to suddenly get swept to the side. He chuckled at the sight of the older boy hurriedly trying to make his loose strands look somehow more presentable, who in return shoved his shoulder in a pleasantly gentle manor.

“How did you think of bringing me here?” Minho breathed out, stopping the moment they finally reached the stream, Jisung following in tow.

Once Minho finally came back from the clinic, he found Jisung waiting for him, warmly dressed up, as if he had the intention of going out somewhere. The moment he shut the door close behind him, he was already dragged by the hand to his bedroom, with the brief clarification that Jisung wanted to take him somewhere, but he wasn’t too keen on divulging where specifically any time soon ( _“If I tell you then it won’t be a surprise anymore,” Jisung whined, eyes stuck ahead of them. “Is it that important that I am surprised?” “Of course it is!” Jisung exclaimed, as if it was the most obvious fact known throughout all human history._ )

The younger carefully crouched down to the ground, taking a seat onto the concrete stairs, “It’s one of my favourite places to come to, especially when I want to clear my mind.” he explained, his fingers picking at the skin around his nails.

Minho sat next to Jisung, their knees barely touching one another’s, but neither of them moved apart.

“Do you come here often?” Minho’s words cut through the silence which settled between them.

“I haven’t had the time to recently. But I used to almost every night for the first two weeks after I’ve moved in the city. That’s why I sometimes came back to the apartment a lot later than I theoretically should have.” Jisung confessed, his voice laced with a tinge of sadness and nostalgia. He barely held himself back from calling it something more than just an apartment; because in the past two months he had been living with Minho, it became like a _home_ to him. He understood how silly it sounded, how everything was too rushed, how to others it probably wasn’t normal to feel that way. But he did, and he had no way of denying it to himself much longer.

Minho hummed, preparing to say something in return, before he was interrupted by Jisung, “Also…I found a place.”

“A place?” Minho tilted his head in confusion, before he seemed to have caught on the meaning behind his words, “Oh.” there was a tinge of disappointment, laced with his words, but Jisung chose to ignore it. It must have been only because he was taken aback, nothing else.

“It’s not too far away from yours, actually.” Jisung rubbed the back of his neck, tapping his feet against the ground while he spoke, “A friend from the flower shop told me about it and…it sounds like a good deal. I’ve actually got enough savings to pay the first few months of rent.” he rambled on, not daring to see Minho’s expression.

Minho craned his neck, taking a better look at Jisung, as if he was in deep thought. “At least now I won’t have to listen to your shower performances anymore.” he mused jokingly.

He had no time to flinch the moment Jisung leaned over, towards the stream of water, splashing a couple droplets at him. No matter how serious the younger tried to look, Minho caught the glimpse of a grin, especially once he started running his hands over his face, brushing his hair back and away from his forehead.

“Too early for mocking commentary?” he gave into laughter as he spoke, causing Jisung to finally let down his guard and burst into a round of chuckles.

“I would have worried and thought something had happened to you if you hadn’t said that, actually.” he muttered, his dry hand carefully touching Minho’s jawline, wiping a couple droplets which were on their way to drip down the vastness of his neck, “I’ll miss it. This kind of _mocking commentary_.” he revealed, hesitantly allowing his fingers to linger upon his skin a while longer.

Jisung tried to ignore the pang in his chest and the uncontrollable thumping of his heart. As Minho raised his hand, he thought he was going to move his own hand away from his face. In reality, Minho only clasped it tightly.

The gesture caught Jisung off guard, staring down at their intertwined fingers. The older boy cautiously lowered their hands, resting them against the icy-cold pavement.

“I’ll miss _you_.” Minho told Jisung, tone as quiet as a whisper.

 _I’ll miss you too. So much more than you could ever imagine._ That was what Jisung wanted to say; he wanted to scream it at the top of his lungs. Yet, he remained quiet, gazing at the streaming water next to his feet.

For a while, neither of them said anything else, only relishing in the pleasant presence of each other. At one point, Minho shuffled around briefly, before Jisung felt his thigh pressed up right upon his own. Minho moved their hands, so that they were now placed atop of Jisung’s knee, the coldness of his metal rings not matching the other boy’s warm palms.

“There’s a 7-eleven around here.” Jisung stated.

Minho didn’t need any further explanation — he squeezed his hand, his thumb running across his skin in delicate circles as he helped him stand back up steadily, “Lead the way.”

  


—

  


“This tastes weird.” Jisung proclaimed, still continuing to take a couple more mouthfuls of his food.

Minho laughed, shaking his head in disbelief, “Do you want me to go and buy you something else?”

Jisung was quick to deny, the reddened flare of his cheeks now more evident underneath the artificial light of the convenience store, “You already paid for everything, hyung. I can’t ask for more from you. Plus, I practically dragged you out of the apartment without even telling you where we were going.”

“I would have accepted to come with you no matter where nor how you would have asked me.” Minho didn’t even register what he said at first. His voice lowered, as he was quick to rub the back of his neck, shyly looking through his eyelashes at Jisung.

The younger stopped his hand mid-air, as it was in its way to take hold of the plastic water bottle Minho bought for him.

“Ah.”

He offered Minho a half-smile, ducking his hand underneath the table. The blush now covering his cheeks was only intensifying in colour even more, as he tried to act unbothered by Minho’s sincere comment — undeniably failing miserably at that, “It’s not time for you to go all sappy on me now.”

Minho giggled in victory, pushing the water bottle towards Jisung, “I meant it, just so you know.”

The younger exhaled heavily, nodding his head and chugging the bottle in his hand, taking a long sip. He noted just how cold the water felt against his burning throat, as he wiped his lips with the back of his sleeve.

“Why are you acting like this all of a sudden, hyung?” he whimpered in protest.

“Because you’re really cute when you’re flustered,” Minho reasoned, grabbing his own napkin and bending over the table, cautiously wiping the corners of Jisung’s lips, “Not that you aren’t cute on other occasions.”

He dismissively pushed his hand away, “You just want to torture me.” he scoffed, sinking down into his chair, trying to bury his head further into his hoodie.

“Oh, come on, I’m just teasing you.” Minho drawled out.

Jisung was quick to change their subject of conversation, and they ended up discussing about everything else; they talked about how bad they both were in video games ( “ _I bet I would still beat you, hyung.” Jisung said assertively — he expected Minho to argue about it, despite knowing that he was most likely right, since his background with any kind of games wasn’t quite as vast, but only for the sake of disagreeing with him and watching him huff out in indignation, while starting to list all the possible advantages he would have had in a battle against him. Instead, Minho resorted to quirking one of his eyebrows up, not saying anything and watching Jisung’s glorious smile appear, his hands balling into small fists out of innocent triumph._ ), and they both got so distracted throughout their conversation that they ultimately ended up deliberating whether or not Hotteok was a fit name for a pet turtle or not ( _“Why would you ever sentence a poor animal to live a life with such a name?” Minho exclaimed in protest. “I was twelve! And Hotteok is a very sweet and meaningful name.” Jisung defended himself._ ).

“Do you think we should stay any longer?” Minho asked as he piled all the containers of their food, preparing to throw them into the nearest trash can.

Jisung suddenly went silent at that, slightly shaking his head, “We can go back to the bus station if you want to.”

“Do you want to go back?”

“Do _you_?”

“I asked you first.” Minho pointed out, folding the paper napkins and placing them inside the used plastic boxes.

“Technically, I did— I simply didn’t word it as a question.” Jisung followed tow as Minho stood up from his chair, taking some of the food wrappers as well as the bottles.

“It’s okay, I can handle them.” Minho breathed out. Yet, he was not quick enough, as Jisung had already rushed towards the dustbin next to the entrance of the store.

“It wouldn’t be polite of me to not help you.” Jisung said, decidedly smiling at him.

“Thank you.” Minho said, as he reached over to ruffle Jisung’s hair affectionately, just like he constantly did.

It now was in a definite state of dishevelment, Jisung only scoffing in feigned annoyance and pushing his hands inside his pockets. He started walking away from Minho, now being a couple steps ahead of him.

“Jisung!” he heard Minho call out for him, giving into laughter as he noticed the way his hair strands bouncing slightly from one side to another. He was quick to catch up with Jisung, sneaking one of his hands against the younger boy’s, enjoying the warmth that the thick fabric of his hoodie provided.

Jisung said nothing of it, even going as far as searching for Minho’s fingers at one point, until they were perfectly tangled together with his own. Both their faces turned a deep shade of red, though this time, neither of them joked about the other because of it. They didn’t bring up the subject of returning home, simply walking down the faintly illuminated streets, the sounds of their synchronized steps resonating vaguely.

“Hyung, do you think in another lifetime we had met each other?” Jisung blurted out, at the same time Minho asked whether he really had to move away from the apartment or if he could stay for a while longer.

The two of them broke into laughter, especially at the way they were talking about completely different things.

“Why do you ask?” Minho questioned curiously, and Jisung could swear that he made out a faint crimson shade colouring the tips of Minho’s ears.

“Because that would explain how we also met in this current lifetime, you know?”

“Jisungie, I thought we had long settled that it was just a lucky coincidence for the both of us.” Minho sighed, biting his bottom lip — Jisung had long learned that that was his way of keeping himself from smiling. It was endearing, like every other little habit Minho had.

“For the both of us?” Jisung repeated his previous affirmation. In that moment, he decided that Minho blushing and trying to turn away his head in order to cover it up was the most adorable and heart-warming sight he had ever had the chance of seeing.

“I—“ Minho inhaled deeply, before stopping in his tracks, prompting Jisung to do so as well. He turned around, in order to properly face him, and there was something sincere, yet fearful and timid in the way he spoke — it was an unusual kind of behavior, coming from Minho, and Jisung would have never expected to live up to the day when he would actually have the opportunity to catch him acting _flustered_ , “I was being serious earlier, at the stream, when I said that I was going to miss you. Because I have no idea how, but you somehow managed to claim your own personal place in my heart and…damn, that sounds so cheesy, let me rephrase that.” Minho laughed at himself, before he continued, “It’s just that…I’m really glad that I met you, even if the circumstances were far from ordinary. And that’s what makes it even more special, I suppose.”  


“What I’m trying to say is that I really like you a lot. Like, a lot a lot.” Minho went on, pausing to catch his breath for a second. He didn’t once let go of Jisung’s hand, if anything, only squeezing it harder. “Because you’re one of the sweetest and most genuine people that I have ever met. And you always make me smile, even when all I want is to succumb to despair from another exhausting day at work — you’re always there, waiting for me, ready to tell me about what movie idea you came up with or about how you accidentally broke another one of my mugs and had to spend the entire day in search for an identic one to replace it. Or how in the morning you always talk to me about what dream you had or you start showing me old stuff you’ve filmed with that camera of yours. And it’s the little things like these that made me realize that I…I seriously like you so fucking much.”  


“I don’t know if you feel the same way I do or not, I can only hope for the former, but…but if you don’t, it’s totally fine! Really, we can just get back to the apartment and pretend that I never said anything and I can help you pack up all your things for when you leave—“  


Jisung moved away his hands from Minho’s grasp, not even allowing him a moment to process what was happening — for his fingers instantly flew up to the collar of his knitted sweater, pulling him down and pressing his lips fervently against his own. The kiss was clumsy, but perfect in all possible ways; Jisung loved the way Minho’s lips felt so plump and soft against his own, the way the cherry flavor of his lip balm tasted. Minho responded on an instant, applying more pressure and letting one hand travel up the side of his body, inevitably cupping his cheek, the other wrapping around his waist. Their chests came in flush contact, barely any space left between them.

“You know, hyung,” Jisung hummed, as Minho pushed apart his lips, the younger allowing him full access, “Most people usually go on a couple dates before moving in together.”

“What are you trying to imply?” Minho exhaled heavily. His expression was dazed, as he planted gentle kisses against the corners of Jisung’s lips.

“That I’ve never been to Lotte World before and that if there is anyone whom I would love to go with, it’s you.” he murmured, his arms now embracing Minho’s torso.

With just one glance at Minho, he could easily notice the deep shade of pink spreading from the base of his neck all the way up to his face, his lips full and only slightly reddened, a sparkling trace shining across his cupid’s bow, most likely not being anything else other than smeared lip balm.

“Well then, Han Jisung, would you do me the pleasure of going on a date with me tomorrow evening at Lotte World?” Minho pressed his face against Jisung’s shoulder, a wide smile brightening his expression. Jisung couldn’t exactly see it, as he snuggled his cheek into the fabric of Minho’s sweater as well, breathing into the cotton scent, mixed with another one of the boy’s flowery fragrances; but from his voice alone, the younger could easily tell that he was equally as happy as him.

“A hundred times, yes.” he giggled as Minho hugged him closer, “And I like you too, hyung. If it wasn’t obvious already.”  
  


—

  


“Baby?” Jisung called out, excitedly dangling his feet as they barely reached the ground from where he was seated atop his and his boyfriend’s shared bed.

“What is it, Sungie?” Minho barged through the door, an apron hanging from his neck — it was one of those ridiculous ones, with the overly cluttered patterns, Jisung having bought it for him on their first Christmas spent together.

“You won’t believe what I found.” he spoke in a singsong.

Minho brushed his hands against the apron, some flour still left on his fingers as he crawled his way up on the bed, plopping behind Jisung. Instinctively, the younger leaned in, his back meeting Minho’s chest with a loud thud.

“So?” he prodded, placing his chin on top of Jisung’s shoulder, “What did you want to show me?”

“This!” he said, grinning cheekily. He brought the object he held tightly in his grasp in the periphery of Minho’s vision, the latter squinting and trying to figure out what was so incredible about a crumpled piece of paper.

“Wait— isn’t this a bus ticket?”

Jisung, satisfied with his question, nodded his head enthusiastically. With his index finger, he pointed towards the date marked in black ink which had almost faded away, but it was still visible if he looked close enough at it. “It’s from the day we met for the first time. Remember?”

Minho was struck by realization, his lips curling into a delicate oval shape as the memories finally started to unfold, “How could I ever forget? You looked like the most adorable and at the same time the most helpless squirrel that I had ever seen.”

He earned a punch in his chest for that, “Good thing you came up to save me. My Prince Charming.” Jisung teased, shifting a little so that now he was staying right between Minho’s legs, with the back of his head leaning against his shoulder.

Minho, due to their new position, planted a quick peck on his temple, watching the pleased smile at the corners of his lips. “I can’t believe you actually kept it.” he huffed out a laugh, taking the ticket from Jisung and examining it, turning it from one side to the other.

“It is evidence that we were destined to meet, hyung. I was supposed to leave one day before the date written on here, but there were no more tickets left so I had to delay everything.” Jisung sported a goofy grin, before raising his hand and pressing two digits on Minho’s lips, “I know that you’re just going to deny it, but,” he warned, “don’t even try and tell me that I’m wrong.”  


“Whatever you say.” Minho mumbled, sneakily kissing the tips of Jisung’s fingers, catching him by surprise, “Also, not to complain or anything, but don’t you have a meeting with mister Kang in like— an hour?”

“Shit, you’re right.” Jisung cursed out, only now having remembered the meeting he had planned with his executive film producer — he had gotten a little too absorbed into looking through some of his older things, which he kept all tossed together into a box underneath the bed, with the pretext that he was, in fact, doing some cleaning up.

Right when he was about to jump off the bed and prepare himself, two arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him back onto the comfortable mattress.

“Good luck.” Minho whispered, pressing delicate kisses across Jisung’s neck. The ticklish feeling made him squirm in his hold, a small whimper earned from him. “You’ll do amazing.” Minho concluded, the moment his kisses had finally reached Jisung’s lips, their mouths eagerly meeting.

“Thank you.” Jisung chuckled breathlessly, nipping at the other boy’s bottom lip. “I hope you didn’t forget that it’s movie night today.”  


Minho watched him with a hazy gaze, swiping his thumb across his cheek and pinching it playfully, like he always did, “It’s what I’ve been looking forward to the whole day.”

“Good.” Jisung murmured gleefully, nuzzling his nose into the juncture between Minho’s shoulder and his neck.

“I’m happy that I met you, Sungie.”

Jisung couldn’t help but laugh softly, Minho soon joining in, “Where did that come from?”

Minho shrugged, “I don’t know. I just felt the need to say it, that’s all.”

“I’m happy too, hyung. More than you could ever know.”

  


—

  


_hansung00: hyung hyung_

_leeminmin: jisungie?_

_leeminmin: did something happen? did everything go well with producer kang?_

_hansung00: yeah, everything is fine!!! :D_

_hansung00: i love youu~_

_leeminmin: ???????_

_leeminmin: i love you too but what’s with the sudden confession_

_hansung00: mmmm_

_hansung00: nothing in particular_

_hansung00: just wanted to remind you how much you mean to me~~~_

_leeminmin: we’re not watching any horror movies._

_hansung00: :(_

_hansung00: it was worth the try_

_hansung00: but i really do love you_

_hansung00: i’m serious_

_leeminmin: yeah, i know_

_leeminmin: i love you too_

_hansung00: <3_

_hansung00: so how does the eye sound????? :DD_

_You have been blocked by this_ _user._

**Author's Note:**

> ahhh thank you so much for reading it!! i really really hope that you liked it, and above everything, that you are all well & safe :]] <33  
>   
> feedback is also greatly appreciated, i would love to hear your thoughts on this!!  
>   
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/soondoongri) | [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/soondoongri)


End file.
